


Harsh Enlightenment

by PreseaMoon



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreseaMoon/pseuds/PreseaMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakuryuu doesn't trust him. That's fine, though, because a magi does not lie to his chosen king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harsh Enlightenment

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime during those months between Judar offering his help and Hakuryuu accepting it. 
> 
> I wrote this with the intention of it being a shipping fic. Then most of what I wrote and the reflections made tended more towards gen and I didn't have the heart to remove some of the shipping bits. So? idk
> 
> I have been endlessly revising this and I give up. Also, the ending... However, I do like it! Just not as a single piece so much.

Ever since they were little, Judar has considered himself a pair with Hakuryuu.

This started for the simple reason of Hakuryuu being the emperor’s son Judar could play easiest with.

Hakuyuu wouldn’t really play with him, just pat his head and indulge his questions. If pestered, or if Judar climbed up his leg, the crown prince would give him a gentle nudge elsewhere while claiming to be busy, as if Judar could not see that he clearly wasn’t. Judar didn’t particularly care, though. It didn’t even hurt. For the firstborn son, Hakuyuu was boring, and he never smiled. Judar didn’t like him anyway.

Hakuren was fun to be around and play with. He’d let Judar climb all over him and lift him into the air and let him win whatever make believe game they played. More often than Judar appreciated, however, Hakuren was too busy to play with him. Sometimes he was too distracted to give Judar the attention he was entitled to when Judar was right there pulling at his pant leg.

Then there was Hakuryuu, who was smaller than Judar and pretty and blushed at almost everything. When they played games, they had a more equal chance of winning. And Hakuryuu was genuinely interested in all the little things Judar had to tell him. He was enthusiastic, asking Judar to tell him more about magic and the things he’d seen outside the palace walls, outside of Kou, across the sea. He gave smiles full of the sun’s energy if he caught sight of Judar, and then would rush towards him. 

They stuck together as much as possible, all day long if they could manage it, because it made sense to do so. There was no reason to be apart. When they had to attend their individual studies, Judar’s focus would wander to the background, as if his favorite of the imperial princes would pop out of hiding from behind a wall or a desk. This was never the case. Not even once. But Judar would imagine his laughter anyway, and wonder if Hakuryuu did the same.

Then the fire happened, and everything changed when Judar did not expect it to. Even after Hakuryuu had recovered from his wounds they didn’t see each other for months. Didn’t have time to see each other. Weren’t allowed to see each other? Something like that. It doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter, but things— _everything_ —could be different—maybe, if they had the chance to mend themselves together then. 

Judar thinks they would have, that the damaged Hakuryuu would have naturally drifted to Judar and Judar would’ve protected him, and Hakuryuu would have protected him in return. Or he’d like to think so, but maybe the tenuous hope they currently have is reliant on the distrust that’s kept them apart for so long.

The older they got the more the distance between them grew the more impatient Judar became, but throughout it all he never ceased to consider them a pair. Why isn’t something he could explain, but no one asked and needing a reason never occurred to him. It was not inexplicable, nor was it random, and that goes doubly now.

Then Judar changed. 

Or maybe he didn’t. 

Or maybe he did. 

The same Judar with a different mindset. The same Judar with the benefit of new information. A completely new Judar, a nothing that requires building up with only the self-serving rukh as assistance. Something. Pick and choose. He doesn’t like any of the options available but he likes the original even less. It doesn’t matter.

Then Hakuryuu finally returned, and he wasn’t the same as the Hakuryuu who’d left but he also kind of was—like Judar maybe. He was himself but grimmer, like he’d been submerged in blood, and the fondness Judar had always felt morphed into kinship.

Before, Judar would look at Hakuryuu and think, “Hurry up!”

Now, Judar looks at Hakuryuu and thinks, “I’m waiting for you.”

They are together again. Together but not a pair, not yet, but Judar is confident they will be. Like them, their time together is the same but also different. Judar likes it. It feels like affirmation, although he’s not totally sure of what.

When he is not running through his daily training, Hakuryuu hides out in his room. If Judar said that’s what he’s doing he’d probably deny it, but it’s the word most appropriate. Judar knows the difference between Hakuryuu’s hiding and his avoidance. No one currently at the palace would seek him out or be likely to unexpectedly cross paths with him, however, so who knows whom he’s meant to be hiding from. It’s certainly not Judar, though.

Hakuryuu stares at the ceiling from the bed, propped up by pillows, hand low on his stomach, eyes unfocused. Judar lies with him, head on his arms and legs crossed in the air, watching. The features of Hakuryuu’s face are finer than they ever have been, older, sharper. He tries to picture how he’d look with the confidence having Judar on his side would give him, and can’t help smiling.

“I’m going to turn you into a king,” Judar promises with more conviction than he’s ever given to anything.

Hakuryuu side eyes him but says nothing.

Hakuryuu doesn’t believe him. That’s not unexpected. Hakuryuu probably thinks he’s said the same thing to the rest of his siblings. Maybe thinks Judar would say it to anyone if he thought it’d get him what he wants.

That’s not the case, though. Judar hasn’t said that to anyone else, and he hasn’t had interest in doing so. The thought never occurred to him. Only Hakuryuu. Because he’s chosen him. Chosen him the way a magi chooses a King, which—he doesn’t know what’s different or special about that, but he instinctively knows it is. 

They’re a step or two behind becoming a true King and Magi pair, but he can tell they are close, that it is in the palms of their hands and all that’s left to do is close their fingers around it. Hakuryuu is the only one he has envisioned himself with this way. The others, Kouen, Sinbad, it wasn’t like this. The feelings involved were different, he thinks—he _knows_. He was meant as nothing more than a chain and ball to tether them to that old hag and her magicians. For them, he was never meant to be a magi. And his choice was never meant to be his King.

Hakuryuu eyes the fist he’s unconsciously formed and Judar relaxes it slowly, as if it is not in response to being seen. He gets to his hands and tosses his leg over Hakuryuu to straddle him. As usual, Hakuryuu lets him do as he wants, get as close as he wants without a word of protest.

Judar entwines his left hand with Hakuryuu’s right. With the other hand his finger slides down Hakuryuu’s chest and into his robe. “Ah, that’s not how it is, though, is it, Hakuryuu. You’re already a king? But that’s not quite right, either, you know? You aren’t a king. Not yet. You just have all the makings of one. I want you to be a king. I want you to be _my_ king. It’s no good if you’re someone else’s. I’m the only one for you.”

And Hakuryuu is the only one for him, but Judar can’t make himself say it. Just in case it’s that undesired scenario where he’s left lost and alone with nowhere to go that ends up playing out.

Hakuryuu frowns. “Were you always this fond of talking?”

Judar sits back, scoots until he’s seated between Hakuryuu’s thighs. He rubs the back of Hakuryuu’s hand with his fingers and thinks back. The last several months, years, anything, aren’t all that fun to revisit. All of it has soured and it makes him irritable. Who has he managed to interact with in the last few months that didn’t have his skin crawling within a few minutes?

He can’t think of anyone aside from Hakuryuu. He has limited interest in finding someone else.

“I was before, right? Before you left for Sindria.”

“Not really.”

“Before that, then.”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t know? I was.” He thinks he was at least. “How about when we were kids.”

Hakuryuu looks off to the side. “You were.”

Judar lifts their paired hands into the air. Hakuryuu isn’t really holding his hand back, but he doesn’t need to be. As long as one of them is holding on it’s enough. For now. He pulls Hakuryuu’s arm towards him, stopping when it’s fully outstretched, and then leans over. His right arm keeps him up and his groin presses to Hakuryuu’s as he does his best to reach him without having to move, and pecks his lips, staying just long enough that Hakuryuu could respond if he wanted but he doesn’t.

“You could be King.” His hand moves to Hakuryuu’s shoulder instead, then his neck. “I want to see the sort of king you are, what sort of king you will become. You are gonna show me, aren’t you? I want to see, Hakuryuu.” He kisses him again, not seeking a response no matter how much he wants one.

“Hakuryuu,” he sighs, and at the tail end of that breath he finds their positions reversed, with Hakuryuu hovering over him. Hands are on either side of his head but don’t touch. The firm pressure of legs won’t close in on him. Loose hair sliding down his face and Hakuryuu’s robe piling on his abdomen is the most he gets.

Face completely impassive, Hakuryuu leans down to say, “You want to use me.” There’s no accusation in his tone, but he’s enunciating slowly, in a pitch lower than any Judar has heard from him before. It sends a ripple of excitement down his spine and Judar bites his lip as he smiles, which gets him no reaction from Hakuryuu, his hopeful King.

Hakuryuu is right. Judar does want to use him, but Hakuryuu is missing the important and vital second component to that. Judar lifts his head up to mirror the move Hakuryuu just made and says, with a tone so playful it might come off mocking, “I want you to use me.”

When Judar sets his head back down, he finds Hakuryuu watching him with suspicion, as if Judar could be clever enough to trick someone with words alone. Assuming that is what Hakuryuu is thinking, it is both an overestimation of Judar’s talent and a miscalculation of his intent. If Judar were to get Hakuryuu through false promises and deception, then what good is the future he’s trying to reach?

Hakuryuu tenses but doesn’t move away when he catches sight of Judar’s hands coming up to cup his face. 

“Things are fine that way, don’t you think, Hakuryuu? You use me, I use you, and in the end, we both get what we want. That’s better than neither of us getting anything. Better than others taking from us, using us, and then expecting gratitude for keeping us like pets.”

“And what is it you want, Judar?”

A king. Freedom. A world he can live in. A great many things that are desires Hakuryuu also shares. Yet he can’t voice them. There isn’t any sense of restriction. Nothing is stuck. Just, when he opens his mouth all that comes out is air. There’s uncertainty still. They are not allies nor are they guaranteed to be, not yet, regardless of how much Judar needs it and how inevitable it feels. Judar cannot read Hakuryuu’s mind, only his rukh, and they don’t reveal nearly as much.

There is, however, something that gets across all he means to say without getting into the particulars. All the meanings may not be clear to Hakuryuu at first, but they will unfold over the weeks and months to come. There is something wondrous in that, the slow understanding that they are one and the same. Judar yearns for that as he yearns for everything else, with the desperation of someone who has had everything chosen for them, and is eager to have something to truly call their own.

“What I want,” Judar says, trying to imitate the levity he used to maintain with no problem, “is you. Hakuryuu. What you want I want.”

“Beyond that,” Hakuryuu presses. “What do you mean to do once you have me?”

What would Hakuryuu’s reaction be if he said they’re going to break this world’s trap of “destiny” together? 

But before that…

“The first thing I’m going to do, is take you to a dungeon. In addition to making you more powerful than you already are, it will mark you as mine.”

“Yours?”

“Mine. Zagan wasn’t mine, but the next one will be. We will conquer a dungeon I’ve raised especially for you. I have one in mind already. I’ve been saving it all this time.”

“And that will make me yours?” Hakuryuu sounds amused. “Does that mean right now I’m Aladdin’s?”

“No. Maybe? I don’t know. But Aladdin has already chosen his king. Even if he wants you I won’t let him have you.”

Hakuryuu looks at him. Continues to look at him, weighing his words, his intent, his entire being, and finally sighs. With it, his face loses its edge and he sinks down on top of Judar, settling his body so his weight won’t be holding him down. 

Judar smiles around the syllables a few times before finally speaking them. “As you wish, my king.”


End file.
